Being an active engager in Freud's reaction formation royally fucks me over sometimes.

For those of you that don't know WTH that is, reaction formation is a psychoanalytic defense mechanism that involves acting/saying things in complete opposition of how you truly feel.

Yea, I need to quit playing games muahahaha :P

BO BELZA IS HOTTER THAN THE SOUP IN MY RAMEN NOODLES.

My summer in a nutshell.

.... Tonight isn't just any ordinary Sunday night. With classes starting this week, it's the Sunday night that officially marks the end of summer. And with my BUSY schedule this upcoming fall semester, it's going to be a BITCH transitioning from this wreckless, carefree mindset to ruler-up-my-ass-academia mode.

But what's the new school year without a blog about the events of the just-past, newfangled summer???? Incomplete, i tell you. so here's my 2 cents concerning the last 3 months.

Summer 2009. What a fucking rollercoaster! If it were back in May and I were to predict how the rest of the summer would have went, I wouldve have shot myself in the left eye right then and there. MAN!!!! Judging by the unpleasant episodes of early summer, i thought it was going to be the WORSE ensuing few months that I would have to suffer through.

But God, how wrong I was!!!!!

Well, not entirely... The beginning of the summer was as predicted.... miserable. I couldn't let go of certain things which elicited a bitter atttitude towards life -- probably the reason why I got into a few fights in the beginning of the summer (SORRY GUYS! haha!)

But as the summer unfolded and some of

the bitterness diluted, I began to see life as it is. I began accepting what had happened and forgiving him for what he did to me... And along with that, I stopped blaming myself. In turn, my relationships with my family and friends strengthed. Better yet, I met some dope ass people this summer that have changed my life for the better... He had to leave my life to make room for others to enter. And how grateful I am for it.

Damn, I'm seeing some kind of trend going on.... It seems as if GREAT SUMMERS only come right after break-ups. But the reason for its greatness isn't because I feel "free" or "newly single" or "able to go crazy" or whatever... In fact, I didn't do any of that this summer (though, I'm not going to lie...I have been guilty of that in the PAST).... The greatness of summer sprung from the realization that I'm taking one step closer to finding out who I am, what I want, and where I'm going in life.

And that's exactly what happened this past summer. FUCK YEA.

Disrupted sleep.

5:20 am... an unusual time to be awake. Unable to sleep, envisioning a granduer scene in front of me: 10th floor balcony of a Paris loft. A glass of wine. The rising head of the sun painting a faint blueish-pink streak beneath the black cloak of night. The silhoutte of the Effiel Tower dances in the stillness of the air. In and out, dip and turn... a tango between the metal hinges and the reflections of the early morning light. Sip from my glass, feeling the warmth of the wine conquer the chillness of early morning. Nothing to worry about, nothing to care about.. except for the scene in front of me....

Looks like jetlag STILL has got the best of me.

Instead, here I am. My second night back in San Diego. Sitting on the makeshfit "balcony" of my apartment... which is more like a duet of Ikea chairs and a wooden table sloppily thrown together on the small, cramped square outside the door of my second-story ghetto-ass apartment. A glance out the window... empty streets, run-down houses. Scatters of light resonate from a distance... downtown is still asleep. How different from where I want to be right now...

Yet, despite the stark contrast between fantasy and reality, I'm OK to be where I am right now. Despite the pangs of life, the stabs of undeserved hardships, and the superficial untrustworthy people that come in and out of my life... I'm OK with just sitting here... watching the sun rise above my head.

Good morning world. Good morning life :)

These past 66 (and some) nauseating, sleep-deprived hours have convinced me to never ever EVER do another drug in my life.. EVER AGAIN. My head still pounds heavy to the vibrations of an electronic bass, 120 decibels against the walls of my skull. Yea, it might sound like a dope ass 24/7 rave, but TRUST, it hurts like hell.

Exhaustion rapes me in the ass... I don't have the energy to resist so I bend over and take it like a bitch.  The painful poundings lullaby me into restless 30 minute naps, abruptly interrupted by the piercing screams of my alarm clock and the incessant nagging voice in my head telling me to study for these 3 upcoming piece-of-shit exams.  Words run marathons across my textbook pages.  They speak to me in gibberish and tell me grandeur tales of how they came to find their home on page 546.

Ironic how I don't hallucinate when on drugs, but from the exhaustion that comes with school.... Someone needs to pass a law, illegalizing school.

On the upside, our home-made shirts were pretty dope :)

On the 8th day, God created Girl Scout Cookies. 

And what a miracle is it, as I sit in the library stuffing my mouth with a "guap"(1) of Thin Mints, not waiting to swallow before stuffing another cookie in that blackhole of a mouth I seem to have. Here I sit, procrastinating from the ominous fate that lies in between the two cardboard flaps labeled "Communication Research Methods."  FUCK ME. The last week before Spring Break always has this tendency to move at a tortoise pace (2).  One more exam and then the SDSU shackles on my wrist are relieved... unfortunately for me, only temporarily.  "You can do, you can do it!" are the words that I reassure myself repeatedly with.  Nonetheless, it looks like I'll need more than an invisible cheerleader to actually start studying, seeing that I've only read about 2 sentences thus far. DOUBLE FUCK ME.

I can't seem to get into the rhythm of things this semester... Not that I typically have any kind of steady rhythm anyhow... It's more like a bunch of irregular beats at random times, but yet surprisingly work in the end.  NOT this time though... the internal rhythmic pendulum is on mute.  Dead silence. A number of hard-to-handle tribulations and challenges have befallen my path this semester. And I have struggled to deal with certain things and struggled harder to ignore others. But what's life without a little entrophy???!  Secretly, I think the masochist in me actually adores the confusion and the pain the goes along with it. Go me!--there's that damn invisible cheerleader again.

I told myself I would go back to studying at 2:30... and my clock now reads 2:39.  DAMMIT.

Endnotes:

(1) Thank you Lil Wayne for expanding my vocabulary in ways that Merrium or Webster couldn't possibly have achieved.

(2) In this sentence, I use the word "tortoise" in a stereotypical manner... The stereotype being that tortoises are slow.  One can argue the inverse, however, saying that NOT ALL tortoises are slow...  Take for example The Ninja Turtles... WHAT SPEEDY MUTHAS!